


"Happy birthday, my love."

by Moreid



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Fluff, M/M, because God knows we need happiness, don't we?, everyone is happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22742986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreid/pseuds/Moreid
Summary: random-nerd-3 said:"Jaskier, Yennefer, and Ciri find out Geralt has never had a birthday party so they go out of their way to have steamers and balloons and game night, all the while Geralt is just emotionally constipated because he doesn't know what the fuck is going on." and I thought, why not? So, here's a little one shot. I hope you enjoy this, everyone!
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 18
Kudos: 106





	"Happy birthday, my love."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Random_Nerd3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Nerd3/gifts), [kettlepillow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettlepillow/gifts), [Eugene_Kline_Sims](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eugene_Kline_Sims/gifts).



"Keep him busy, and don't be here before the evening!" Jaskier says to Yennefer.

"How the hell am I supposed to keep him busy all day?!"

"You're a mage," the bard reasons and pushes her out of the door, "I'm sure you can find a way! Put a spell on him which will make him want to explore aaaall the pretty flowers and trees in nature till evening or something, I don't know! I know I'm the brain of this lovely team, and you all depend on me for every little thing, but even this extremely handsome and intelligent bard can't think of everything all the damn time!"

"... do you even hear yourself?" Yennefer rolls her eyes. "You're not the brain of this group. If anything, I'm not even sure if you have one."

"Rude. Oh wait a second, you didn't deny that I'm extremely-"

"Jaskier."

"Anyway! Less talk, more work. Out out out!"

*******

Jaskier ends up making a birthday cake with Ciri. Okay okay, that's a lie, because it's more like Ciri just tells him to stay out of it, so he starts decorating the cottage while Ciri makes the cake –he nails it, thank you very much.- He gives her some ideas about the topping though, so he thinks he deserves some credit anyway.

Hours pass, and right when Jaskier thinks that Yennefer might have put his spell suggestion into practice–not that he is sure that it actually exists- they hear the sound of the key turning the lock, and he can’t help but swear. Because damn it, they were supposed to knock the door to give them some more time! But what they do instead? They step into the cottage like god damn savages.

Jaskier definitely doesn’t panic and nearly falls face-first on the ground while he runs to the basket which was filled with flowers, while Ciri manages to keep her chill.

“Happy birthday!” they cheer, and Geralt can’t fathom what is happening for a moment, even though it's pretty clear.

He is awestruck by the way the cottage is decorated: colorful streamers hanging everywhere, balloons covering the floor, various food dishes, and baked goods waiting for them on the table. Where did they even found streamers?

The Witcher doesn’t even know how to react.

It feels just so strange to him. All of it.

He is familiar with kikimoras, ghouls, basilisks and much more, he knows how to react when he sees one.

He knows what to do then.

But as he stands there while delicate flowers kept thrown over his head by the delicate hands of the most precious ones in his life, he just can’t react.

_"What do you mean you never had a birthday party?!"_ he remembers Jaskier asking him nearly two months ago when he accidentally let it slip when his birthday was _"...at all?"_ The bard’s face was coated in sadness.

_"We don't have time for a birthday party. And it's irrelevant."_

_"Irrelevant, he says! YOU are irrelevant! We’re sooo gonna celebrate it!"_

_“Jaskier, no. We’re not going to do that.”_

_“Jaskier, yes! Just you wait, my dear Witcher.”_

He had forgotten about it.

But apparently, Jaskier hadn’t.

Geralt isn’t the only one who is surprised. Because not only Jaskier and Ciri throw flowers over _their_ heads while singing a Happy Birthday song, there is a banner that reads _“Happy Birthday, Geralt and Yennefer!”_

“It’s not even my birthday.” Yennefer states with a hard to read expression on her face. “I think I get it now.” She then looks at Ciri questioningly. “It was your idea, right?”

To her surprise, Ciri shakes her head and points the bard with her head.

“Let's just pretend it is!” Jaskier says. “I wasn't sure if you ever had a birthday party either, well, maybe you have, I don’t know. But!” he holds up his index finger, “ I’m sure it wasn’t anything as splendid as this since I wasn’t the one who-”

Ciri coughs, and Jaskier immediately corrects “We! I mean we, as in, me and my excellent, one and only dear assistant Ciri, weren’t the ones who organized that party. So I just thought... It seemed unfair that- not that I care or something, but-”

As much as is amusing to see the bard –who normally has his way with words- stumbling over his words- Yennefer prefers him to just shut his mouth at that moment.

So she does the only logical thing and gives him a very brief hug as a silent, but sincere _thank you_. She can swear that there’s the smallest hint of pink covering his cheeks afterward.

“I promise to you that your real, true-to-its- date birthday will be as good as this one. Happy birthday!” Jaskier says while Ciri is busy with giving Geralt a hug and wishing him a happy birthday.

As if he is saving hugging Geralt for later, Jaskier makes a beeline for his lute after telling them to have a seat. “Or don’t,” he adds “if you prefer to dance. Which I’m sure you will. So, I’ll start with the song I wrote for the confused mage over there.”

Jaskier’s song starts with _“Once, lived a mage”_ which makes Yennefer frown.

"Once? Lived? I'm still here, you arsehole."

And includes lines such as:

_"but don't make her upset!_

_Or else, you will, oooh, so regret_

_Yennefer of Vengerberg_

_is here with all the souls she has collected!"_

“Only you could manage to warn people about not to make someone upset, and upset the said person the very next moment,” Yennefer rolls his eyes at the bard, who seems pretty proud of how his song turned out.

“What can I say? I'm a man of many talents.”

“Since when talking non-stop and giving people, hell, even monsters a headache count as a talent? For your information, I don't collect souls. What do you take me for? A demon?”

“Oh no honey, how can I? You’re worse than a demon. Demons are much easier to deal with. I’m sure that Geralt agrees with me. Right, Geralt?”

“I’d shut up if I were you, Jaskier.”

“Okay, maybe not so sure anymore. Yeah, of course you would shut up. That’s like, one of your personal traits. Not talking, as if someone made you take a vow of silence.”

“Hmm.”

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“No song for me?” Geralt wonders.

"Well, I've written enough songs for you. I thought it was time for a little change."

"Hmm. Fair enough.”

Geralt nods like he was completely expecting that to happen, and even the idea of Geralt thinking Jaskier would stop writing songs about him eventually, breaks Jaskier's heart.

He sets his lute aside, and walks behind his chair. "I could travel the whole world to find the gift you deserve, the perfect gift,” he says softly as he leans over the chair, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.

“But what you deserve is the world we travel in, its better, flawless version where everything is beautiful, where minacious creatures that you have to deal with don't exist.”

Jaskier is almost sure that Geralt will tell him to shut up, but instead, what he does is putting one hand on his, and listening to him.

So he keeps talking: “A world where the sun always shines and warms upon your face every morning, where flowers never wilt, and moon always sings its sweet lullaby to you every night.

You say I am the crazy one, yet _you_ must be crazy to think that I'd ever stop composing songs for you and sing them. Of course I wrote a song for you. But the thing is...”

The bard leans in even closer, and the rest is whispered in a tone oh so sweet that honey would be ashamed of letting people call it sweet.

“-it's only for your ears to hear. And my other, dare I say, gift is, only for your eyes to see. Anything you wish tonight, shall be yours. All yours. Happy birthday, my love."

Geralt can’t help but shiver ever so slightly.

“You know we can still hear you, right? There are children here.” Yennefer remarks a moment later –which Jaskier responds with: _“Hush, jelly Witchy, you got your song!”_

“I hope you're not referring to me. I'm not a child,” Ciri says with a little smirk. “Let my dads have their moment.”

“Yeah! Let her dads-”

Jaskier starts, but then almost chokes on his own spit in surprise once he realizes what Ciri had just said.

They all, even Geralt, laugh at his reaction.

Their evening goes absolutely perfectly; Jaskier plays his lute and sings the most lively, cheerful songs for them. Sometimes he sings them alone, sometimes Ciri sings along. And sometimes just Ciri sings as he strums his lute, making up notes and melodies on the spot.

They even play games, but then Jaskier gets on Yennefer’s nerves as usual while playing -she nearly starts a cake fight with him, fortunately, Ciri and Geralt prevent it- they eventually stop playing games.

Even though Geralt can’t say that he really understands why they care about his birthday that much –he just got one year older, so what? It’s not worth celebrating- he still appreciates everything they do.

*******

“My sun already shines every morning. Actually... He even shines in the darkest nights.”

Geralt says after he covers Jaskier’s naked body with the blanket so he doesn’t get cold.

It has been a hot night, and also very sweet.

“And my little flower,” he whispers sweetly as he watches how Jaskier’s chest rises and falls with each breath he takes, running his fingers through his silky, and messy hair “he never wilts, no matter how harsh the winter is. No matter how mean and inconsiderate the stupid winter can be towards him sometimes.”

The peaceful expression on his bard’s face as he curls even closer into Geralt’s embrace makes the Witcher smile fondly.

“And my moon,” he buries his nose in his boyfriend’s hair, breathing in his very unique, familiar and heavenly scent “already sings sweet lullabies to me every day. ”

He then lets out a content sigh, and closes his eyes after brushing his lips against Jaskier’s sweet lips, stealing a soft kiss from them.

Not aware of the now blushing cheeks of his bard.

“Sleep tight, little hummingbird of mine. Thank you for everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, English is not my first language, and as you can see, I'm kinda terrible at it. So I apologize for my mistakes. (No beta, because even though I know the kindest people who offered help, I didn't want to bother anyone so I basically said "NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN" I'M SORRY!) 
> 
> You can find me at andyet-here-we-are.tumblr.com by the way ^^ Please let me know what you think?
> 
> Okay, that's all I guess. Thanks for reading! Have a good day, everyone ~ 💛


End file.
